


An officer and a Cat Burglar: After Paris

by sherlockian35



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Cat Burglars, Con Artists, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-23 18:36:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14338575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian35/pseuds/sherlockian35
Summary: Inspector McGraw's emotions after Paris adventure.





	1. Chapter 1

Inspector James McGraw was tired, even bored. The party was in full swing as the high society amused themselves with champagne and expensive eggs from poor gutted fishes. He thought about the bed in his lonely flat, it was an extremely charming idea for a brief moment. The background noise, all of those nonsense laughters, the mixing vapors of perfumes and aftershaves assaulted his olfactory senses. James usually liked the silence, a peaceful night in his flat, drinking wine and reading a book. He sometimes drank beer with John Silver in the pub near to their office building after the work. They were not best friends forever, but they had a reasonably acceptable friendship. The pub, Old Sailor, served magnificent products of microbrewery and had a good chef to cook calamari without making it like a rubber. It was a popular place among Europol officers. James stared at the champagne flute in his hand, it was pricey; crystal and delicate, turning the thin stem in his hand. He wished he could have been in the pub, savoring the malty taste of a cold beer on his tongue. He wanted to be in the there. He didn’t want to be in a vast party room in London, sharing the same air with the man who would possibly cause his fall.

James had rarely been in London for years. He realized an hour ago, he had even forgotten how he behaved in such entertainment. John and Madi Silver generally carried out to tasks like this, being in a party, watching their favorite criminal when they were melting in the crowd as a happy and elite couple. There had been quite unfortunate circumstances in the past when Charles and Eleanor posed as a perfect couple, James had given up to send them to civilized parties a long time ago.

James briefly tempted by the thought of starting an accidental fight, enjoying himself as he was dreaming kicking his,-Lord Thomas Hamilton’ who else?- shapely muscled back or slapping his blond head. James paused in horror against the magnitude of his anger. He bit the inner flesh of his cheek. The first days of new year in Paris changed a lot of things in his life. He did not like to keep secrets, especially from his second-in-command officer Charles Vane. Charles was a short fused man, if he learned what had happened in Paris, his life would be in danger. The short vacation had also come with the restless feeling of guilt. Four days in Hotel George V. The disturbing reality was Thomas had already booked a room. It clearly meant that Lord Hamilton had planned everything in previous and assumed James would accept his offer. Did Thomas think he was so easy? Was he so predictable? James still didn’t trust the man, you couldn’t trust a thief if you were an officer from Art Theft. They were not in a relationship, it was just an escapade. His mind slowly warned him. It was a highly dangerous attempt for a clandestine affair. An affair that would destroy his career at the end.

Inspector McGraw had worked hard for his position. He was not born with a silver spoon in his mouth like Hamilton. Thomas preferred to work on the other side of law. He should have asked to him why he choose this way. James didn’t ask and Thomas was not a man who easily share an information about himself. What would Lord Hamilton lose? He had money, position and the power of Hamilton family as James had only his job while his life quality strongly depended on it.

James wished he could know why he was feeling so tired and angry. He was always aware of one day he would break some rules because of Thomas Hamilton. Starting an affiliation with him had been put James in an unsafe position. He had not listened his mind’s warnings when he had accepted the invitation. He didn’t want to act in paranoid way, both of them used fake identities during their stay, but there was a serious error had been done by them, the phone calling in the new year. It was an unforgivable mistake since they were considered as professionals in their career choices. They should have been used burner phones, on the contrary Hamilton used his personal number to call him. How many people knew Lord Hamilton’s own mobile number in the world? Three? Four? James was among them and cell phone lines were traceable. Thank God, Thomas didn’t call him back in weeks. He might have been as disturbed as him about the situation. This quietness was also worrying. It meant a lot of things. Thomas might have found the possibilities were not worth against the risk. The situation was not comprehensible. What both of they did...it’s extremely volatile and dangerous.

James was not sure whether Hamilton knew he was in the even or not, here in a delightfully organized museum event for upscale people. People whom shared the most of the wealth in the country as the Hamilton family was one of them for centuries.

What if his call had been a trap and James had fallen it because he couldn't control his own feelings towards him? James was the persistent bug, buzzing in Lord Hamilton's hat for years. He might have fed up with the stubborn dogs following him in everywhere, watching and waiting. Would not Thomas Hamilton want to get rid of them? Get rid of him? He could easily do it now.

His blue-green, ocean eyes scanned through the crowd. Men were in tuxedos and vests, women were in vintage silk, lace and chiffon gowns since the theme of the party was 1920's while the orchestra played famous songs from Jazz Age. There were little groups gathering here and there, speaking, laughing, drinking champagne. They successfully recreate the atmosphere of the last happy corner before the second world war. James laughed under his breath as he realized most of the guests were middle aged. James and Thomas were not middle aged, but they were old enough to enjoy wearing a dinner jacket, and appreciating a fine brand champagne.

It was so strange, how he spotted him in anywhere without so much effort. He didn't need to see his face as was now. James glared at his finely shaped back. Oh God, he looked beautiful. Was it a proper term for identifying a man? Thomas was graceful, sophisticated and he was a criminal. His face slightly turned as if he sensed the looks focused on him, but he didn't completely turned and saw James. Everything would be so easy if James didn't remember how those long legs wrapped around him, how his slender fingers left burning traces on his skin. Who would have known his cold exterior covered such a passionate man in the core? It was just four days. Four days to remember and never forgotten. Why did not he call him again? What did he want from him? Did James provide any information without realizing what it was?

Half side of his brain believed he was an idiot who had fallen in a honey trap, but the other side strongly objected the idea. Lord Hamilton was not kind of a man, he had been honest when he whispered those words from his chiselled lips. Then why didn't he try to contact after Paris?

He was speaking with a fair haired woman now, he seemed he was enjoying their conversation. Thomas laughed heartily. James felt his stomach burnt as he rested his hand on her fore arm. They looked cosy, familiar and relaxed with each other. An unbearable emotion, jealousy washed over James, clenching his teeth. Inspector James McGraw neither hypocrite nor sexist, but the woman looked so...maternal, she didn't look like a sex partner for Thomas Hamilton. She was shorter than him, not more than 165 cm. James was an excellent observer and he was sure she had given birth very soon. She had that happy glowing of a fresh mother. Her thick fair hair pinned at her nape in a chic chignon, and braided with a large black ribbon. She wore a green chiffon dress and highly expensive silk shawl. Her 1920's air was almost excellent except her shoes, she was wearing sparkling flats not heels. She must have suffered from postpartum swelling in her feet and ankles.

Thomas Hamilton was the heir of his family's fortune, he had a sister, but she was from his father's third marriage and she was only eleven years old. So that woman could not be his sister. A cousin perhaps?

His heart rate slowed down a little, it eased the jealousy of the wild creature in his soul. James closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about the large bed in the hotel room. Realizing how much he wanted him even if he had been entrapped by Lord Hamilton was not good for his self-esteem. He was just a human, he couldn't get away from the moments of Paris nights, Thomas pinned under him, whispering into his ear, shivering in desire. The man who seduced him with his crooked smile and his intelligence. The man who seemed to forget him.

He should have accepted he had made a mistake, a terrible mistake. James took a deep breath to calm himself. He needed to concentrate, concentrate on the reason why he was here, but he was overwhelmed by the confusing, clashing feelings. He shouldn't have been in here, he should have sent John and Madi. He had insisted, he could care of one lousy surveillance job. Deep down in his soul, Inspector McGraw knew he wanted to see him for one more time. He had determined to erase his effect from his life, he had decided to turn back into his routine.

Thomas bent, whispering something into her ear. James could see her profile, she was surprised and frowned. James clenched his jaw, he sighed inwardly. Thomas drew himself back. She nodded slowly then, squeezing his hand like she tried to soothe him. As a matter of fact that, James had understood in years, whenever Lord Hamilton decided to do something, he never left it undone. It was why he was so good in criminal industry, branch of cat-burglary. Maybe, this was the reason he liked him that much and he couldn't erase him from his mind easily. They shared the same stubbornness and straightforward determination.

Hamilton's soft spot was jewellery, if it was expensive -especially the estimated value was close to a million- he loved to steal it. If they also had a history including mystery, curse or misfortune with sorrow, Thomas adored them. Now, he was in a museum event where one of the most expensive and cursed stone was showing under not too tight security. The Riya Stone, widely believed it was cursed by a priestess, was in the exhibition. The eighty carat yellowish sapphire had been belong to Riya Family for last seventy years, and the curse had eaten the members of the family. The last remaining heir Michael Riya donated the gem to the museum. He did not want any ties with the gem.

It's said that the gem was stolen from a temple devoted to the name of Horus in ancient Egypt. The thieves had killed a priestess during the sack, and she had cursed them all before her demise. It had been bought by Roman a trader and taken to infamous city, Pompeii. Masseus and his family died in the ashes of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 A.D. The stone had been waiting the other victim for centuries, when the first excavations began in 1748 by Carlo di Borbone, a worker found and stolen the gem. He had not kept it in his hand for a long time, he had sold to Giovanni Callione, a prominent noble in the area. After he bought the gem, his family had met with series of unfortunate events. His heir died from an unknown fever, his wife ran off with a man was more powerful than him, his daughter died after labor in three years. Giovanni firmly believed that the gem was the reason, he decided to disposing of it. He had sold to a rich businessman from France. Alain Laroche. The curse must have been following the sapphire, the Laroche family destroyed during French Revolution.

There had not been any knowledge about the gem for more than a century until Albert Riya saw the the stone in an auction, and bought. He turned into a necklace with diamonds for his wife, Henrietta. Interestingly, life did so well for Riya family for a while. Even though they lived in a economically depressed age, their business expanded as his children had been married to important people, establishing a strong connections with upper class. Albert had been warned about the curse, but he didn't believe it was real. After his death, his family started to believe it was cursed. Henrietta died in a plane crash, the heir of the family, first born son Anthony killed his lover and committed a suicide. His children were not in the legal age, their aunt Marion had gained the control of the estate. She had spent the money for drugs, lovers and alcohol. When the new millennia came, only Anthony's second son -Michael- was alive and the family was nearly bankrupted. Michael sold off every jewellery to pay debts of estate, except the gem. When Aunt Marion had found herself broke, she had split the sapphire from the necklace and she sold the gold and diamonds. Michael donated it to the museum, he supposed it would be safe under the museum conditions.

It was not in safe. The security was a mess and the curator refused the polite suggestion about reinforcing the security. She didn't think someone would steal a cursed item like the stone.

James could recognize a stubborn and blind-sighted person in seconds. He classified the curator as dim-witted. She did not understand what their precious item would face. Thomas was a creative and resourceful thief. He always had several different plans in his head, and he liked a good challenge.

Thomas could have made an imitation of the stone for changing them, stashed somewhere in the museum. It would take only minutes for Thomas to steal it. It could have already been in his pocket, but James did not have any warrant. The problem about his theory was Thomas did not leave the party room for a solid two hours, and he never looked at him.

“Bastard,” James thought. “He knows I am here.”

He stared at Thomas' back, his neck should have been in pain from his effort to not turning back. James tried not to let his eyes wandering on his body. He finally realized there was some tension in the air. Thomas looked uncomfortable, restless as he was still speaking to the same woman. His face was pale and strained.

He corrected the Bluetooth ear-piece in his left ear. John and Madi were in the CCTV room with the museum's technician. They noisily yawned to annoy him. They were bored, and James could not angry with them.

“When can we go back at home, boss? We are bored to the death in here.” John whined into his ear. “He will not do something tonight.”

“You can go back at your house when the party is over.” James snapped.

Madi sighed. “Everything seems normal, the necklace is in its glass box, all cameras are working properly and our favorite criminal is still flirting with the woman who is wearing a Manalo Blahnik flats which it costs more than your weekly expenses.”

“Really?” John asked as James frowned. “How can you be so sure?”

“I am still saving money for the same model, John. I can recognize it in anywhere.”

“He is not flirting.” James suddenly said. He realized he could have made a mistake. He cleared his throat.

“It seems like he is flirting.” John replied thoughtfully. “Why did you say it?”

“She wears those flats because her feet and ankles are swollen. A postpartum effect. She is a new mother. His code of honor does not allow him to flirt with another man's partner who has recently given birth. She might be his friend.”

“Then she might be a close friend. They look so cozy.” Madi muttered. “You know what, I have a theory.”

“Let's hear it.” John laughed.

“Shut up, John.” Madi said tersely. “Maybe, Hamilton did not expect to see her in here, she could have compromised his plan. If she is his friend, he probably would not want to take a risk when someone can easily spot his absence or presence in the room.”

“Not bad,” James approved as he scowled at Hamilton's back. “It can explain why he did not leave the room for hours.”

“He acts like he is drinking, but I am sure the plant behind him is so happy with bubbling ethanol.” John chuckled. “Can I go to a loo, boss?”

James closed his eyes in surrender as he heard Madi snorted. He should have been angry against the mocking tone in John Silver's voice, but he hadn't got enough energy to do it.

“You are a wonderful woman with a bright future Madi Silver, you could have found a more appropriate man.” James said. Madi laughed in joy.

“If you say so.” Her voice softened a little. “Hamilton is aware of you are in the room, boss. He looked at your side whenever you were not staring at him like a revengeful owl.”

James hesitated for a moment. “It could be another reason him to not to act. If he does something, we could catch him up in red-handed.”

“Hamilton is not a coward.” Madi murmured. “He stole a Rembrandt when the museum was swarming with coppers and agents. He either he is not here to steal the sapphire or his plan compromised in some way.”

“What are you thinking, Silver?”

It was the seriousness in her voice, James suddenly felt the hair on his nape prickled. “Something is wrong.” Madi murmured. “He is a gentleman. He should have known a lot people in the event, but he only spoke with that woman, and he didn't go to see the sapphire. It does not fit his profile. The eighty carat means that it is almost worth of 15 million, it should have attracted his attention.”

“He could be sick.” James finally said, smiling lightly.

“Oh, do not turn your head, McGraw. He is walking now, towards to your direction. What if he wants to talk?”

“What?” James hissed under his breath. “If he wants to talk, then we can speak like grown men without a fight.”

James couldn't cut off the communication. Madi was in the surveillance room, she could see them if Hamilton wanted to chat. James didn't think Thomas would speak openly about Paris, but everything would be possible when Thomas was the main subject.

Thomas reached his side, the flute was still in his hand. He gave him a thin smile. “Hello, Inspector McGraw. It's surprising to see you in here.”

“You shouldn't be so surprised.” James gritted his teeth. “Well...where there is smoke, there is fire, Mr Hamilton. You are here while such an expensive piece is exhibiting. Is it a coincidence?”

Thomas glanced at him, then shrugged lightly. “Perhaps? I really don't like to disappointing you, but I am here because I have a chaperone duty for tonight.” His head signed the woman he had been spoken to. “Charlotte and her husband Alec are my childhood friends. Alec is in Berlin now, so I have to accompany her. That's all.”

“It wouldn't be hurt to check the security around the stone, would you?” James lifted an eyebrow.

“I am not interested in such a baleful item, James.” Thomas sighed. “Don't worry there is no market for it.”

“There is always a market for 15 million.” James said wryly.

“It may not have been donated to a museum if the owner could have found a buyer, Inspector. Some pieces find a buyer even if they are cursed, the Riya Stone is not one of them.”

“Really? Why?” It was a genuine curiosity. Thomas took a sip from his champagne, he actually drank half of it this time.

“The curse usually starts with a bad luck of the owner. People blamed the object they bought, because humans need something to shame other than themselves. It's carried out from owner to owner. As long as they believe the thing is the reason of their misfortune, it will be continued for ages.”

“So you don't think there is a real curse, it is all in people's head?”

Thomas leaned forward, murmuring into his ear. “Some of them are really cursed.” He said softly. “It does not even have an insurance since none of the companies wanted to deal with it. Did you see it?”

James shook his head. “No.”

“I want to show you something. Let's go to see it.” Thomas placed his hand on his shoulder, a shiver roamed around James's body.

“Hamilton...” His voice sounded thick, he was startled by their closeness. What would Madi think about it? James only hoped she couldn't see the color of his face, since blood rushed through his cheeks.

“You should see it.” Thomas muttered, James was aware of his breathing accelerated.

“Alright.”

The Riya Stone was securely keeping in a glass box on a black colored wooden column. It had taken out from the necklace after Henrietta Riya's death. Aunt Marion had sold off the gold contour and the diamonds. It placed on a rectangular shaped velvet, glimmering under the strong light. Something was sinister about it, most likely its color. If the means of colors represented the truth, the dark yellow shade was related with depression and melancholy.

“Some says its original size was 120 carat, it had been shaved by an unknown jeweler at Laroche's request. Laroche kept the main piece, but he ordered a bracelet from smaller pieces and sent to the queen as a gift.” Hamilton said as they stood in front of the column.

“Do you know where the bracelet is? If it was existed, of course...”

“It would have vanished during the French Revolution. It did not bring luck to Laroche and the Queen. Look at the glass cover, do you see something unusual?”

James narrowed his eyes, Thomas was right. There was a light greenish hue on the glass. It had not got the clear transparency of a normal glass.

“It's greenish.”

Thomas's lips curved into an irresistible smile. A kind of smile that could easily melt the integrity of a man and ruin a good name. “The greenish hue is coming from lead, arsenic and thorium with the pinch of uranium.”

“Did they put it in a public place?” James exhaled in amazement. “Is it not radioactive?”

“The radioactivity is very low. Indoor radon exposure much more dangerous than that.”

“Is there a specific reason to keep it in this glass?”

“Perceptive as usual.” Lord Hamilton muttered. “Yes, there is a reason. When Albert Riya bought the stone, he did not hold the gem alone for a long time. It placed as a pendant on the end of a V shaped gold layer. A dozen of unusual diamonds from an illegitimate mine in Africa used as accessories. The Riya Stone did not bring them bad luck until Henrietta Riya died. Her daughter Marion ripped it from the necklace, and sold the gold and the diamonds.”

“Oh,” James realized what Thomas was trying to imply. “The diamonds must have had lead, arsenic and thorium. They thought the diamonds prevented the curse?”

Thomas grinned. “The buyer was not a secret. Michael Riya was suspicious on the power of the diamonds, he asked for a test, and the Russian oligarch immediately accepted . He also wanted to know because his great-grand father knew Rasputin, and he had talked about curse lifting diamonds Rasputin had in his inventory. The test revealed that diamonds had those minerals in them. When Riya donated it to the museum, he especially requested this glass box. Do you see why I am not interested in?”

“I can see, but I am not sure the Russian oligarch's diamonds are secured.” Thomas gave a low, but sincere laughter as James heard through the connection Madi giggled.

“Russia is not in your jurisdiction, McGraw. It would be their problem, not yours.”

“I hope so.” James snorted.

Thomas checked his watch. It looked old and worn, James knew it was a gift from Thomas's grandfather. The sentimental value for him was bigger than the real price, while the real price was more than the sum of James's team annual income. Perhaps, the difference between their lives was the culprit. James did not know how he could compete with such a gift.

“Lotte should be in her home at eleven. It's nice to see you, James.”

James didn't give a reply, he watched as Thomas walked away from the exhibition room, taking his heart with him, leaving a hole in his chest.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James tries to solve the emerging problem about Lord Thomas Hamilton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is only one chapter remain, and estimated update day is next Monday.  
> Thanks for all kudos, bookmarks, comments and reads.
> 
> Black Sails, Treasure Island or related products are belonged to respective creators, not mine.

_Six moths ago..._

James McGraw started his career as a beat cop, struggling so hard for climbing steps. He was coming from a working class family, he never had a chance to attend fancy schools like Hamilton. He paced through the streets in the daylight and he went to night courses at the university, without a personal life, without someone he could love. He could have given himself a chance, he did not do it. Maybe, it was the fear of failing, maybe he didn’t meet the right person.

His friends, even his family thought he was crazy. Where the world James was born, men did not care about subjects like art history or sociology. Men should have been hardworking and tough. Such nonsense was for delicate and weak creatures. James did not say anything, he already had his own problems about himself, he didn’t want to argue with his family members. He had a plan just like his sister. They wanted to leave without breaking their mother’s heart. For freedom. To express themselves, finding better chances. They did it at the end, Emma’s position worst than him, no one believed a woman could be a structural engineer. She fought through her way as her way paved with vicious arguments and mocking by her brothers. Several years later, Emma had her own company, and McGraw family finally learned to keep their mouths shut.

James always evaluated himself luckier than Emma. He had found a mentor at least. While he was working his arse off, one of his lecturers had taken him under his wings. James was sincerely grateful to the Prof Hennesy, he polished his manners, corrected his speech, made him ready for the better occupations as James realized in sadness his development erected a wall between him and his family. They had never said it openly, but James was aware of they thought about the betrayal of roots.

First years of his journey, he had had an endurable relationship with his family, the invitations for family gatherings and phone calls decreased day by day. Last year, he and Emma didn’t give an invitation for their eldest niece’s wedding. It had hurt him. It had hurt him more as he couldn’t call and ask why they had not been invited. It was pointless to ask when you knew the answer.

James didn’t like to talk about his private life, and Hennessy was not a man who poked his nose in someone else’ business. However, Inspector McGraw was sure his lecturer knew more than he said. He still remembered the last time when they spoke. Whenever he thought he was stuck in a case, he usually found himself in front of the Hennessy’s door. The old academic never turned him down.

They shared the finely aged wine, discussing the points of his last case. A small, specialist on pre-columbian age museum had been robbed, someone who had stolen a dozen of objects made from gold and jade, their estimated values were close to the 7 million dollars. The items were chosen carefully, they were not the most expensive pieces, but they were small and easily transport from the country. The Americans thought Lord Thomas Hamilton was the culprit, and put an extensive pressure on the upstairs. James had a different idea about the heist.

“Hamilton fell from a building two months ago in Hungary. He broke his ankle. He still is in recuperation. The heist also doesn’t match with his MO. Hamilton was never interested Pre-Columbian artifacts before, I am sure he doesn’t know where or who to sell.”

James stopped his laugh at the last moment, remembering the team sent him a large bouquet and a card written by Silver.

“ _Get well soon our favorite criminal, we are extremely bored.”_

“Then why do the Americans think differently?” Hennessy asked, sipping the red wine.

James sighed. The soft light coming from the desk lamp refracted through the glass goblet, making red spots on his hand, like blood splatters on a pale wall.

“Well...Hamilton usually operates in Europe or Asia, he rarely did something in other continents, but he stole a Manet from a wealthy American man a year ago, they of course couldn’t catch him and the painting was not recovered. Law enforcement in there still nurtures a grudge against him.”

Hennessy frowned. “He could have made a mistake. As far as I understand, your Hamilton didn’t make mistakes.”

James bit his lower lip, sensing his cheeks were lightly blushed. He hopelessly wanted to say the man was not his, but he knew how Hennessy’s brain worked, it would be like hanging a flashing sign on his neck.

“He never returned back to America. He generally does not make mistakes, but he has a one weakness, Hamilton can sometimes act sentimentally. The painting was belong to a Jewish family in Berlin...”

Hennessy finished his wine, he carefully placed the goblet on the table next to him. “Second World War?”

“Unfortunately, yes. It was seen in a high ranking SS officer’s house around 1944. Obersturmbannfuhrer Dietrich had never found after the war. Presumably, he ran off to Argentina with his wife. We don’t know whether he had children or not. In 1983, there was a rumor starting to circulate, an unknown Manet was open to the market. The most likely scenario was, someone from his family tried to sell the painting after his death. A wealthy American had bought it. The daughter of the original owners survived from the war. She dedicated her life to save her family’s belongings. She almost saved everything, except the Manet. The man who had bought it refused to sell or give it back.”

“Then she found an illegal way?”

James shook his head. “No. She died in disappointment, but her grandson decided to continue. A month before the robbery, he visited Hamilton. We believe, Hamilton did it _pro bono_ , and found new enemies.”

“Are you sure he didn’t steal the artifacts?”

“He is safe in here, Sir. He knows the environment, he knows us. They are waiting him in there like hungry wolves. Why did he risk his neck?”

“He wouldn’t.” Hennessy muttered. “If a man falls in love with the executioner, no one can save him, James. A passionate, ambitious and alone man’s fall is much harder than an ordinary man. You should be careful.”

James blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“You should be careful not to take you with him when he falls.”

“I am not...”

Hennessy raised his hand, his face hardened. “You are trying to save his ass, James. It should have been his problem not yours. I always appreciate your dedication, your self- improvement. You are a good man, James McGraw. Don’t ruin your life that you've worked so hard to get.”

“I am not trying to save his ass.” James said angrily. “I know he is a criminal, but I do not want him to be blamed for something he has not done, and I would do it for anyone.”

Prof Hennessy rubbed his forehead nervously. “James...just...please be careful, OK?”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Present..._

James leaned his head on the window, he should have listened to Hennessy. The old man was right as usual. He hadn’t thought before, his insistence about Hamilton’s innocence on the artifact heist could have drawn attention on him. He was worrying about the phone call, but he could have made a bigger mistake. He had just wanted to do the right thing. The Pre-Columbian artifacts were still missing and the thief didn’t find. His superior, Director Edward Teach seemed to believe Hamilton was sick so he couldn’t have been in there theory, but the special word was _seemed_. Teach didn’t argue with James, never asked him to whether he was sure or not. Was it the reflection of the man’s trust or James had already been taken the bait?

“Oh God...” James murmured tiredly.

Two figures in the empty street suddenly drew his attention. They were most likely grown men, one of them was carrying a bottle. Inspector McGraw frowned, it was one o'clock after the midnight. He stepped in the flat just at the midnight. He had refused John's offer to drop him to his house. He had wanted to think, re-evaluate events in the party. He leased the flat from his sister while she was in six month long dam construction at somewhere really weird. He preferred to stay in there because the street was in a safe, upper-middle class neighborhood. Drunks were a rare sight. Both were wearing old looking military parkas, covering their heads with hoodies. One was lean and tall, the other one is bit shorter and more compact than his friend. The lean guy threw his head back and drank from the bottle. James couldn't hear his voices, he watched the man as he took a long sip and passed over the bottle to his friend.

James felt a unusual discomfort, they were most likely homeless, unemployed men. Victims of bad luck. However, James couldn't erase the feeling it was just an act, a stage played by professionals. Were they watching his flat? He hadn't seen a tail while he had been on the way.

It didn’t have a good effect on his increasing paranoia. James studied them again, if he wanted to evaluate them with neutrality; there was nothing unique about them. So normal. The hair on back of his neck prickled. He hesitated for a moment. He could go to the street, and then what? Asking them about their ID’s? Starting a fist fight? James groaned inwardly. If he was wrong, what if he was wrong? He should have been wrong, but they didn’t go far away too. He didn’t need to be an officer to realize that they made a circle around the neighborhood. Any man with keen sight could see it. His eyes met with the reflection of his face on the window. He looked tired, a tired officer could make serious mistakes.

It must be the guilt, coming from falling in love with a criminal. Teach didn't send men after him, it was all in his imagination. The guilt ruined his rational thinking, and he was missing the man like he was a hopeless teenager. Before Paris, James had thought it was just an itch. That infernal scratching in his mind would be ended when they had had sex. He was wrong. Now he craved for a contact with Thomas. He didn't mean sex, even a simple conversation was enough. Even looking at his crooked grin was enough.

“I am getting old.” James muttered to himself.

He glanced up to street, trying to see which windows were lit at the ungodly hour of the night. People were sleeping, but the night had its own creatures. Some of them were beautiful like Hamilton, some of them were just dangerous well...like Hamilton. For a brief moment, James wished he could turn the clock back until the new year, to the moment Hamilton invited him and refused his offer. James rubbed his chest. He didn't like the what if game, he had never been that kind of a man.

“ _Stay with me,” Thomas whispered slowly. “Don't go.” James almost didn't hear his low voice._

_It was their last day in Paris. James had to return back to his job. He inhaled a long breath. “I can't. I am sorry.”_

“ _Don't be.” Thomas sighed. James relieved since Thomas didn't look hurt or angry. “I wish...” Then he gave up, shaking his head a little as if he wanted to clean the cobwebs in his mind. James suddenly felt so bad._

It took a minute to James gathered himself. Maybe, it was the problem. James always found a reason to feel guilty. It could be his family, his job or his transient private life. When he was a teenager, he had a good relationship with his parents. He didn't want to lie, but he didn't have enough courage to tell them. He had been afraid of their reaction and he was right. James couldn't speak openly about himself until he was twenty five. It ended with disappointment. His mother had never accepted that she couldn't have a daughter-in-law, she still believed it was a phase that her son would grow out eventually. His father...it was actually hurt, knowing he could never introduce his boyfriend to his family.

James blinked and realized he'd been staring at the empty street for minutes. The men were gone. He should have been relaxed, but the lingering sensation, like someone was still out there or someone was here with him. He could be short-fused sometimes, however, he was a rational man. He always tried to process the situation with logic and it seemed his logic wanted to fail tonight.

His mobile started to ring, causing James almost jumped out his skin. “Shit,” He muttered as he fetched it from the table. It was two o'clock. He frowned when he saw the caller. Madi Silver. He accepted the call in hesitance.

“Madi?”

“Did I wake you up, boss?” Her voice sounded tired.

“I can't sleep.” James confessed, walking towards to his kitchen. It seemed he would not sleep tonight. Tea would be good for his restless brain.

“Me either.” Madi muttered. “John is snoring.”

James laughed in a low voice. “I sometimes envy him. He could sleep through the alien invasion. Why did you not sleep?”

“The woman. The woman in the party. She seemed familiar.”

“Really?” James said, he pulled out a mug from the cabinet. He had filled the kettle in the morning. He switched it on. “I didn't remember her anywhere.”

“It's normal. You don't read gossip columns. Her name is Charlotte Travick, nee Reinmann. She is married to millionaire Alec Travick.”

James paused for a second. “So?” He asked carefully. The water was boiling, the kettle clicked with a loud sound.

“Reinmann.” Madi underlined her words. “The Manet case? Henry Reinmann. ”

“Oh,” James muttered. He finally remembered the grandson. “Is she related with him?”

“She is his sister, boss.”

“James.” He interjected. “We are not in the office.”

“Alright, James.” She was pleased. “We assumed Hamilton stole the Manet without any profit. He could have done it for her.”

“Did you find anything?” James said hesitantly. He could hear the excitement in her voice.

“I am not sure.” Madi admitted, lowering her voice. “Hamilton said they were friends. We all heard it, if they are really friends, why does she not in our files? We know his shoe size when he was six, but we don't know his childhood friend?”

James blinked, he hadn't been thought about it. He had accepted whatever Thomas had said. “We don't know everything about him.”

“We even know he had a relationship with Sir Peter Ashe in their college days, and how their affair ended.”

“Yes, Ashe.” James gritted his teeth. The man was the sore spot for him. He rubbed his face, realizing a head-ache probing his temples. “What are you implying?”

“Hamilton could be in sort of trouble.” Madi said hastily.

“They looked friendly.” James made his tea, frowning.

“Hamilton is not a man who is comfortable with touching or expressing his affection in public. It's against his upbringing. He touched her during the night continuously , as if he tried to creating an impression of good friendship or flirting.”

“He was not flirting.” James sank down on a kitchen chair with a long suffering sigh.

“Do you remember what he said about her husband?”

“He is in Berlin.”

“I checked. Alec Travick is not in Berlin, he is in London, showing his hospitality to his Russian guests.”

“I don't like it.” James started to feeling nervous, throwing quick glance at the clock on the wall, almost three.

Madi cleared her throat. “You won't like it all when I'll tell you what I've found.”

James didn't reply for a moment. “Go on,” He said quietly after a few of seconds.

“The Russian. He is the oligarch who has the diamonds from the Riya necklace.”

James's heart sunk, staring at the remaining tea in the mug, it looked like a diluted mud. He felt himself nauseated. “Fucking idiot.” He finally said without any trace of anger in his voice. “Where is Hamilton, now?”

“In his house. He reached there at eleven-thirty. No activity for hours. He is probably sleeping. All silence.”

James was really worried. The first thing he could thought was asking a favor, a huge one from her, but he would be in Madi's debt forever without having any leverage against her. Madi would also find herself in a hard situation. She was married. She might not want to keep secrets from her husband even if the said husband was John Silver. James should have kept it very quiet, sniffing the air without drawing an additional attention.

“You should sleep.” He said softly.

“What do you do?” Madi asked with reluctance.She was in fact afraid of his answer.

“Now? Nothing. I am tired. I am going to sleep. You need your beauty sleep, too.”

It seemed James gave the proper answer. Her voice sounded more relaxed than a minute ago. It made James unease, there was something in her voice, an unnecessary sympathy. “The last thing I'd want to do is behaving like a paranoid officer, but...”

“You did the right thing, Silver. Good night.”

He took a deep breath as Madi hung up. His eyes focused on his hands, they were different from Thomas'. His hands were larger than Hamilton's, the fingertips calloused from the heavy labor jobs he had worked in his young-hood. Thomas Hamilton had slender fingers, and smooth soft skin. When you saw them, you could easily guess the man who had them had never worked in a manual labor in his life.

James leaned over and shoved the mug away. They didn't place a surveillance camera for Thomas' house. They acted in laziness and wiretapped his neighbor's security camera in her garden. There was a traffic CCTV but it was old, and it broke frequently. The problem was their tech, young Billy Bones had control the all cameras and James was not confident about his loyalty. So he was off the list. Eleanor was always out of the question. John...maybe...but he was too street smart for his sake.

As a matter of fact that he should have been alone. He was the man Hamilton slept with. James had hundreds, even thousands of reasons why he should not doing what he would do. Funny thing though, when he evaluated his options, there was an only one man he could trust even if the man would want to chew his head off. James was not lying to himself when he thought it was his responsibility, but he couldn't do it by himself.

He outstretched his hand to take his mobile for calling that man. The phone was ringing and ringing. James nearly gave up when Vane answered.

“Why the fuck are you calling me at 3 a.m?” He groused, and James let out a abrupt laughter , feeling fractionally better.

“Charles...I need your help.” He only said.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They met in a still open pub, ordering beers. His second officer listened his words with a stony expression on his weathered face as James explained Madi's findings and Paris. The heavy burden on his shoulders slightly lifted.

“You...you fucking idiot...” Charles spitted in anger as soon as he ended to talk. “Did you just say you fucked him? What's wrong with you?”

“Nothing is wrong with me.” James replied coldly. “I can't be the only man who makes wrong decisions in the world. If I remember correctly, you slept with Eleanor. Don't you think it is against the fornication is forbidden between the colleagues rule?”

Charles ran his hand through his long hair. “I didn't sleep with a criminal at least. Why did you tell me? This is so dangerous.”

“I trust you.” James said simply.

Vane snorted. “You are crazy. You shouldn't trust anyone on such a matter. How could you know I won't use it against you?”

“You owe me. I saved your life.” James shrugged nonchalantly, he was not feeling happy as he reminded Charles he could have been a dead man if James had not been in that room with him five years ago. Collecting a debt was always a sensitive subject among law enforcement officers. It must be handled wisely.

Vane closed his eyes in desperation. “You want to collect it now? You are a sneaky bastard.” His voice didn't sound heated.

James initial instinct was giving a cheeky answer. Then he decided it was not a good idea. He probably ruined his friendship with Vane tonight. James knew Charles would help him, but he didn't think about the consequences when he called. Self-preservation basically a first requirement of any officer. He stared at him for a long moment, their eyes met. It wasn't a challenge. It was something unusual, understanding and disappointment.

“Just as I told you I trust you.” He muttered finally.

“What exactly happened, McGraw?” Charles asked, without blinking, without offering a comfort. He just watched and waited in silence.

“We kissed...no I kissed him when I cornered him in Louvre. He called me in the new year, and invited me to Paris. I accepted. I know I should not have done it, but I wanted.”

Vane made a low sound as if he was an angry wolf. “You gave him a perfect fucking opportunity to blackmail you. Well done.”

“Tell me something that I am not aware of.” James mumbled.

“What if he took pictures of you or recorded your...your activities?”

“I hope he is a gentleman.”

“For God's sake...” Vane looked at his half empty glass. “You are on the track, if...if anyone learns, it will ruin your future, McGraw.”

“I've already written my resignation.” James gulped nervously, swirling his bottle of beer.

“It is not enough,” Charles hissed. “Do you really think a resignation could save your ass? You will find yourself in an investigation, they'll throw you in a jail and forget you. Everyone would think you helped him, and what do you suppose? He would run for saving you? He simply would not. You could not wash your hands off from it without a punishment.”

James didn't give an answer. He felt like he should have had an answer, but he had not got. He opened his mouth to say something, anything. Then, he gave up. He only stared at Vane.

“You are an unbelievable moron.” Vane shook his head. “But, you are not the first man who ruins his life because of his dick.”

“Thank you.” James replied slowly, he polished off the lukewarm beer. The taste was bitter as the liquid was getting warmer. He managed to control his restlessness at least.

“Tell me one thing, McGraw. Is he worth for?”

“I wish I knew.” He said honestly. “How could anyone know if she or he is worth for?”

“No one knows.” Charles sighed. “You are an adult, you can make your own decisions. Are you really alright?”

“Fine.” James smiled lightly. “I don't know why I did it, but I felt alive and free. I didn't feel like that in years.”

“There is always a way.” Vane tapped his fingers on the table. His deep, dark eyes were watching James.

“How?”

“Whatever would happen, it depends on your decision. What do you want James McGraw?”

“I want him. What else I suppose to do? It's too late anyway.” It was so simple, yet so complicated. “What if he does not want me?”

“Then, I can kill him without thinking about consequences.” Vane said frostily. “I should have done it years ago.”

James tried to sounded normal. “Can I consider myself lucky?”

“Not yet.” Vane gave him an icy glare.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They had been parked a few streets away from Hamilton's house. The night was cold, not a good night for stake out, especially when James was only wearing a thin jumper. James shivered as Vane opened a window and lit a cigarette. They didn't speak through the way. Vane stared out from the window absentmindedly. James tightened his grip on the wheel, clearing his throat.

“The security camera in his neighbor's garden. It directly watches his house.” James said.

Charles blew a smoke through the window. “Bloody brilliant.” He muttered. “Is there any surveillance on his back garden?”

“There is a traffic CCTV on the street but I am not sure whether it is working or not.”

Vane threw the cigarette butt. James cringed a little. “We could disarm the neighbor's camera.”

“His neighbor is very fond of large canines.” James said carefully. They were not afraid of dogs, but James was a bit hesitant about a Caucasian Shepherd Dog. Those dogs could weight hundred kilogram in the adult age.

Vane snorted. “It's possible if the dog eats you first, I can reach the camera while it is chewing your bones.”

“Ha ha.” James said dryly.

Charles side-glanced at James. “If he is in some kind of trouble, I don't think he would accept it when we break and enter to his house.”

“It would be better for his health if he accepts. Do you have any idea how could we do it?”

“Yes, but you don't like it.”

“I am already in deep shit, so I don't care.”

“Perhaps, we can light a little fire.” A small grin lingered around his mouth.

“Blowing up my car is out of the plan.” James gave a harsh laugh. “It's funny tough, I would probably find myself in jail and you are enjoying my pain too much.”

“Come on, when do we have a chance to starting a mayhem?” Charles opened the door. From the expression on James's face, he didn't felt the same.

“Molotov cocktails?” James said as he left the car.

“You are sick in your mind, McGraw.” Vane leaned on the side of the car, raising his head to see the stars. “We don't need a sentence of life.”

James breathed a sigh of relief, nodding in silence. “You still have a time for leaving, Charles.”

Charles looked at him as if he had been supposed to hear something different. His jaw clenched, wrapping his jacket around him. “This is the another evidence of your idiocy.”

“You are the one who offered an arson.”

“I may have suggested to do it, but it doesn't mean that we will do it. I am not that crazy.”

“Then, what will we do?”

“We will wait. Hamilton likes running in the mornings after dawn. Now, get in the car. We have three more hours. Did you really think we were going to set fire to some places?” Vane chuckled.

“It might be fun.”

“Might be.” Charles laughed in a low voice. “There is a bottle of whisky in my back pack. It's better than the arson.”

“You think so?” James lifted an eyebrow.

“Trust me.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

“It's complicated.” James' words little slurred after the third cup of whiskey.

“I didn't say it wasn't.” Charles threw his head back, resting his head on the headrest. “You should have been careful, hell...who am I to question your decisions?”

“You are my friend.” James coughed.

“I thought you and John are tight friends. I am your second-in-command.” For some reason, his revelation hurt James McGraw.

“John and I...” James blinked. “Yes, we are friends, but his priority is his wife.”

“Why Hamilton?” Vane took a long sip from the bottle. It burnt his throat.

“I don't have a rational explanation. It's just happened.”

Charles turned his head to look at him, frowning. “How many boyfriends did you have?”

“Not much.” James confessed. He outstretched the plastic cup, Charles filled it with amber colored liquid in silence. He was more perceptive than he looked.

“Have you ever _had_ a boyfriend?”

James didn't give a reply immediately. He cherished the taste and the light buzzing in his head for a minute.

“Are one night stands count?”

“Ah,” Charles muttered with a thoughtful look.

“You are going to give me an advice, aren't you?”

“You would not like it.”

“You know me too well.” James sighed, turned back to his drink.

“Are you sure you are gay?”

James spluttered a laugh, making a hopeless gesture with his free hand. “You are a funny man. I am not confused. Do you want...an exclusive relationship with her?”

“Who?” Charles seemed amused.

James slapped his forearm, rolling his eyes. “Eleanor, you dolt.”

“You are drunk.”

“Not enough, not yet.”

There was a silence hanging in the car. Vane lit another cigarette. They were sweating, he rolled down the window, turning his head to the refreshing breeze. “She thinks she is smart enough to deceive us. She applied for a position in Rackham's team without informing her superiors.”

“Nice.” James said in anger. “How did you learn?”

“Rackham called me and wanted to know whether you would approve her transfer or not.”

“What did you say?”

“I said you're a good boss.”

“When would he request her transfer?”

“In a week. He also implied he needed a new tech.”

“Are you suggesting that I should also allow Manderly's transfer?”

“Yes,” He said firmly.

“I never questioned your administrative decisions in the past. I won't do it in the future.” James glanced up at him. Stake outs had never been James's favorite activity in the job, he hated to remain restricted in a narrow area. He usually annoyed his partner until Charles or John told him to go to hell. The expression on Charles' face made James feel slightly worried, Charles didn't expect those words from him. He was distracted, and distant.

“Do you want to be alone with him?”

“No.” James replied bit harshly. “What time is it?”

“Half an hour to dawn. Hamilton is a creature of habits. He runs for five kilometers after the dawn. He never changes his route. Why?”

“Sorry?” James rubbed his nose, it was itching. The bottle was almost empty now.

“Even a stupid criminal knows routines are dangerous. So why does he not change his habits?”

“Because he doesn't care?”

“I can't help but I feel we are missing out something on important here.” Charles insisted. “I would be so sure about myself, if I know they couldn't follow me.”

James looked at the outside, biting his lower lip. “How?”

Charles palmed his face with his left hand. “Bastard...” He breathed. “He controls the cameras, every one of them in the neighborhood, maybe in the zone.”

James' blue-green eyes widened with realization. “Oh, shit. He knows ....” James couldn't finish his words.

The right back door of the car opened, someone tall and covered with a black clothes got in the car, smiling at them. Both James and Charles froze, couldn't move as they saw Thomas Hamilton placed himself on the back seat. They didn't hear anything.

“Hello, gentlemen. What the fuck are you doing in here?” He asked angrily. There had been an unwritten rule between them for years, they would not bother each other at their homes.

James blinked. “How long did you know we are here?”

“Do you really think you are invisible with a _black_ car? You are like a cockroach on a white wall!”

“Sorry...” Charles offered hesitantly. Both of them looked guilty.

“And you've been drinking for three hours. Have you ever thought what would be happen if you caught by a copper?”

“We are a copper.” James huffed.

“You are not.” Thomas said impatiently. “You are not supposed to operate anywhere in Europe. You don't have a power to arrest a criminal or conduct an investigation without the support of Interpol or local police force. It's why Edward Teach established a joint section with Interpol.”

“Did you just insult us?” Charles muttered. “We know our history.”

“No, Mr Vane. Do you realize how many agencies, services or police forces are following me? More than a dozen, including Scotland Yard. You are in their region, in a black car, with a bottle of alcohol.” Thomas snapped. “Don't tell me you are carrying a gun.”

“Err...he has a valid excuse.” Charles said in rush. “We don't have guns by the way.”

“Thank God. So...what is your valid excuse?”

Thomas's face slowly paled as James and Vane looked at each other nervously. He knew at the second what it meant, and suddenly felt himself extremely angry. He should have thought, he should have known James would eventually confess everything to someone. He just didn't think the man could have been Charles Vane. 

“I...I need some fresh air.” Vane mumbled as he reach the door, the smile tugged onto his lips betrayed the tense expression on his face.

“Stop there.” Thomas ordered in anger. It was an interesting sight, a man like Vane, vicious, sometimes heartless and cruel, stopped immediately and threw a hopeless stare at James. “I can't mess with electric grid continuously. How dare you...I trusted you.”

James arranged himself into a new position, he didn't turn but he stared Thomas using the mirror. “You lied to me.” He said calmly.

“ _What_?” Thomas bewildered.

“You...lied...to...me.” James repeated. “Charlotte Travick is not your childhood friend, and you are in kind of trouble. Vane is here to help me, throwing himself in jeopardy because I am a cold-hearted bastard and I ruin our friendship tonight _because of you_.”

Thomas tilted his head back as if he had been slapped while Vane froze, couldn't move or speak. The panic and the relief passed on Thomas' handsome face screamed that he was caught. He glared at James with a sharp look.

“I am sorry about your friendship.” He finally murmured.

James softened a little. “What is going on Thomas?”

Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose. “We can't stay in here forever. There is a patrol about five-thirty. The cops love to circling around my house.”

“What is your offer?” Charles asked, scratching his chin.

“I'll cut the real-time feeding on cameras. It seems a technical glitch. We have ten minutes to reach my house. Can you drive the car?”

Charles sighed through his nose. “We're wasted, Hamilton. I am not sure he can drive the car without hitting a tree.”

Thomas leaned forward, his blond head appeared between the front seats, checking the panel. “Great. I can't drive an automatic, either.”

James shook his head desperately. “Another transmission macho. Yeah, yeah...we know Hamilton, real men drive manuals.”

Charles snickered, leaning back on his seat. A muscle twitched on Hamilton' cheek, losing his temper at the end, he slapped the back of James' ginger head.

“You...” Thomas gritted his teeth. “I never drove an automatic. It would be lovely if my muscle memory confuses between clutch and break. Where do you want to hit?”

“Walk?” Vane suggested tiredly, yawning. “We are close to your house.”

“Both of you smell like a distillery. Can you walk in a line for ten minutes?” Thomas inhaled a shallow breath, his face creased with the smell of sweat and whiskey. “You definitely need a shower, too.”

“I don't have enough energy for a shower.” James murmured. He grinned in a sudden, all white teeth. “Do you want to help me ?”

Thomas narrowed his eyes. “Believe me, you would not want me to touch anywhere in your body right now.”

Vane burst into a laughter, his eyes watered and started to hiccup. James patted his shoulder. “There...there...calm down...”

“I understand why people are becoming murderers.” Lord Hamilton muttered.

 

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued....don't worry, I am addicted to happy endings:))


End file.
